


take my breath/never let it go

by keskasi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Collars, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Victor Nikiforov, Tender Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 15:03:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10946964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keskasi/pseuds/keskasi
Summary: Viktor is only this terribly oblique and roundabout when he asks for something he really wants, something that makes him vulnerable.





	take my breath/never let it go

“I was thinking,” Viktor says over breakfast one day. He turns the page of his newspaper, which he gets delivered every day, even though he barely skims a quarter of it. Yuuri can see the exact moment he realizes that a newspaper was the wrong choice for pretending to be nonchalant, because the page he flips to has no pictures and he’s obviously not reading it. His nose scrunches minutely, and he covers the motion by taking a sip of his coffee. “About how you touch my neck all the time when we make love.”

Yuuri eyes the hickies on Viktor’s throat. “Do you want me to do it less?”

“Mm, no,” Viktor says immediately, but still in the bland tone that is, to Yuuri, very obviously fake. “But it must get tiring.”

“I like touching your neck,” Yuuri says, by which he also means _I like how much it gets you off when I touch your neck._

Viktor blushes a little, a small smile curling into the corners of his lips. Yuuri feels an answering smile on his own face, sets his foot gently on top of Viktor’s under the table.

“Wouldn’t it be easier, though, if…I don’t know, if something else could do it for you?”

Yuuri frowns as he thinks that one through. Viktor is only this terribly oblique and roundabout when he asks for something he really wants, something that makes him vulnerable. He’d done the same thing when they moved to St. Petersburg, said, _It makes the most sense for you to move in with me, since that’s what we’re used to._ Like Yuuri had thoughts of staying anywhere else.

“Like a necklace?” Yuuri hazards.

Viktor makes a little noise in the back of his throat and gets up to rinse out his mug.

“Maybe something sturdier,” Viktor says eventually, when his back is safely to Yuuri. “Something like a collar.”

“You want a collar?”

Viktor’s shoulders move in the vague approximation of a shrug. It makes Yuuri’s heart melt a little, hopelessly fond. He slips out of his chair and sneaks up behind Viktor to wrap his arms around his waist. Viktor turns the water off and leans back into him.

His skin is warm beneath Yuuri’s lips, when he rocks up on his toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Okay,” Yuuri says. “We’ll look into it tonight.”

When Viktor sighs, his whole body goes loose within Yuuri’s arms.

 

\--

 

Yuuri keeps the idea in the back of his mind all day, and by the time they get home he’s able to lay out some conditions: they’re going to pick out the collar together, it’s going to be inexpensive because Yuuri _refuses_ to spend ludicrous amounts of money on something that neither of them have done before, and it can’t be so tight that it leaves marks–even indents–in Viktor’s skin.

Viktor looks a little sulky about the last one, but asks, “Can it lock?”

Yuuri tucks his feet up as he thinks, leaning into Viktor’s side on the couch. Viktor’s arm comes up around his shoulders immediately, which makes Yuuri smile. His laptop sits on his knees.

“It can,” Yuuri says, “but I don’t think I’d be okay with locking the first time. Probably even the first few times.”

Viktor kisses his temple. “That’s fine.” He opens Yuuri’s laptop and Yuuri gingerly starts searching around the Internet, a bit aimless.

“What material were you thinking?”

“Gold,” Viktor says immediately.

“It would have to be fake gold,” Yuuri says mildly. “Because it’s going to be _inexpensive_.”

He glances over at Viktor, whose face is scrunched in comical distaste.

“Something like leather, then.”

Yuuri nods and modifies his search.

They end up buying what looks like a fairly ordinary collar, black, with some silver clasps and small rings on it. And then Yuuri ends up kissing Viktor’s neck on the couch, which turns into making out on the couch, and by the time they move to the bedroom...it’s very late.

 

\--

 

When the collar comes, Viktor tries to open it right away. However, it also comes at one o’clock in the afternoon, so Yuuri places it on the coffee table and promises to make it worth Viktor’s while if he waits. He has some vague ideas about, well, making it romantic. Viktor really wants this, and he’d made himself quite vulnerable to ask for it. Yuuri likes to reward that kind of behavior, so Viktor knows he’s loved and cherished and Yuuri’s not going to run if Viktor asks him to bite harder.

So Yuuri makes a dinner reservation, and they wear subtly coordinating suits, and he lets Viktor tie his tie for him, fingers lingers hotly over the collar of his light blue shirt. Viktor holds the restaurant door open for Yuuri, and Yuuri pulls out his chair for him, which makes Viktor laugh. A candle flickers at the center of the table. They order dinner, and two glasses of wine, and a fancy sundae for dessert that Viktor feeds to Yuuri across the table.

“Five out of five stars,” Viktor declares as they leave.

“You always say that.”

“Well,” Viktor says, pecking Yuuri on the cheek outside of their car, “the dates you take me on are always five stars.”

“One day I’ll pick out a terrible restaurant and it’ll give you food poisoning.”

Viktor laughs, his face radiant in the moonlight. “Maybe, but I’ll still have a lovely time. And I have a wonderful husband to nurse me back to health.”

(It’s true. He does.)

 

\--

 

After all of that, Yuuri wants to open the box as soon as they get home. It’s Viktor who kisses him long and slow in the hallway and suggests they put on something more comfortable, which for Viktor is one of Yuuri’s wide-necked shirts and a thong. By some miracle, Yuuri manages to keep his hands to himself until they sit on the couch, scissors in hand, and open the box.

“Put it on me,” Viktor breathes, shoving it into Yuuri’s hands as soon as he’s unwrapped it. He turns around, pulling his knees to his chest, feet bare on the cushion. Yuuri smiles at the back of Viktor’s head, then down at the soft collar in his hands, cool metal warming under his palms. He kisses the nobby bone at the base of Viktor’s neck.

It’s somewhere between faintly ridiculous and ridiculously erotic, putting the collar on him. He goes slowly with it, afraid of yanking too hard or pinching Viktor with the buckle. The most that’s ever been against Viktor’s neck in the bedroom is a tie and Yuuri’s hands, and, if he’s being honest, he’s not sure how he feels about how sturdy the collar looks in comparison. He fastens it maybe a little looser than it needs to be, lets it come to rest softly against the sharpness of Viktor’s collar bones.

“How does it feel?” he asks, smoothing his palms down over Viktor’s shoulders.

Viktor leans back into him, first softly, and then insistently, until Yuuri has no choice but to lean against the armrest and open his legs, pulling Viktor against his chest.

“Very good,” he sighs, and lets his head fall back against Yuuri’s shoulder, neck arched beautifully. “I love it.”

“You wish it were gold,” Yuuri says, smiling as his hands drift across Viktor’s chest, the hard points of his nipples, visible through the soft cotton of his shirt. With his other hand, he strokes Viktor’s lips, ignores Viktor’s attempts to suck on his finger, and trails down Viktor’s throat. When he comes to the collar, he strokes over the length of the leather, the bumps of the straps and silver rings.

Viktor inhales sharply, a little breath that makes his chest jump. His hands rest obediently on Yuuri’s thighs, still except for small, restless movements of his thumbs, stroking across the thin fabric of Yuuri’s yoga pants. Yuuri doesn’t need to be able to see his eyes to know he’s already drifting a bit–-his pleasure is written in the comfortable sprawl of his body against Yuuri’s, his attention in the way his breath hitches with each stroke of Yuuri’s hand across the collar and his skin.

“You look gorgeous, Vitya,” Yuuri says softly, and Viktor turns his head slightly, mouth open as he angles for Yuuri’s lips somewhere on his skin. Yuuri can’t deny him anything like this, so he draws his lips over Viktor’s cheekbones before burying his face in Viktor’s hair. It smells like oranges.

He pets down Viktor’s chest and his stomach to where he’s thickening in his expensive little black thong. Petting over him there makes Viktor sigh, his fingers clenching against Yuuri’s thighs.

“Do you want to stay here or move to the bedroom?” Yuuri asks, as he teases Viktor through the thin fabric of the thong, something warm thrumming in his chest as he watches Viktor harden for him.

“Here, please,” Viktor murmurs. “Please don’t let go of me,” he says, voice mostly just a vibration under Yuuri’s fingertips. Yuuri huffs a little laugh and tucks Viktor in closer against his chest, squeezing his thighs around Viktor's hips, which makes Viktor chuckle warmly. “Mhmm. Just like that.”

He keeps one hand on Viktor’s collar as he jerks him off slowly, gently, firmly, touching him and squeezing him and stroking him until he’s open-mouthed, spine twisted so he can muffle small whimpers into Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Ah,” he says, “ _Yuuri_ …”

“All mine,” Yuuri breathes into Viktor’s hair, where he smells real and lovely and vital. “You’re all mine, Vitya.”

Viktor’s hand grips Yuuri’s thigh as he comes, shuddering in Yuuri’s arms. Yuuri touches him softly through the aftershocks, and then wipes his hand on Viktor’s shirt. Well, Yuuri's shirt that Viktor is currently wearing--it makes his chest feel tight. Viktor goes boneless with the afterglow, hair mussed from Yuuri’s nuzzling, color high on his chest and the tips of his ears.

Yuuri’s…not unaffected by the situation–-the situation being his indescribably beautiful husband, perfectly satisfied and soft against him–-but that can wait. For now, he thumbs over Viktor’s collar, pushes his hair out of his eyes, and kisses his forehead.

“How was that, sweetheart?”

Viktor’s hands drag up and down Yuuri’s thighs, palms wide and hot, as he finds his words. “Amazing, Yuuri. Really. I loved it. I love _you_.”

“I love you too, Vitenka,” Yuuri says, and kisses him again. How can he _not_? “How’s your neck?”

“Perfect,” Viktor purrs. “Mmm…my Yuuri, taking such good care of me.”

Always, always, always, Yuuri’s heart sings. Always, says the ring around Viktor’s finger. Always, says the collar around Viktor’s neck.

“I’ll buy you a gold one next,” Yuuri promises, words whispered against his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from ariana grande's "love me harder" lmao


End file.
